Due to an unfortunate
teleportation malfunction,
this mad scientist has just found himself
in the vacuum of space.
With no oxygen, he might be tempted
to hold his breath,
but this would only accelerate his demise.
The air in his lungs is
desperate to expand,
so if he doesn't release it right away,
his lungs will rupture.
Our poor professor quickly exhales,
and his skin’s tensile strength prevents
the rest of his body from bursting,
but things are still looking grim.
Without surrounding air pressure,
his bodily fluids begin to vaporize
in a process called ebullism.
His skin swells, moist surfaces
like his eyes start to boil,
and bubbles form within his vessels,
obstructing blood flow.
This is all exceptionally painful,
but while these nightmarish effects
will take roughly 90 seconds
to reach their deadly conclusion,
he’ll mercifully pass out
from lack of oxygen
within about 15 seconds of arriving.
And even though space is barely
above the temperature of absolute zero,
our scientist won’t die by freezing.
Because unlike on Earth, where body
heat can transfer to molecules
in the environment,
in space it can only leave
by slowly radiating away.
It'll take hours before our professor
becomes a human popsicle,
and by then, he’ll have perished
a long time ago.
Now, had our scientist planned
his teleportation to space,
he certainly would have dressed
for the occasion.
Let's imagine he arrived
in a spacesuit instead.
The suit’s pressurized air protects
his body from ebullism,
its oxygen tank keeps him breathing,
and the insulation prevents
him from freezing.
But although these features thwart
an immediate tragedy,
space is still an incredibly
dangerous place.
Outside the shield of Earth's atmosphere
and magnetosphere,
our scientist is bombarded
by galactic cosmic rays—
a form of radiation believed
to come from distant supernovas.
If he's exceptionally unlucky,
he might be hit by solar energetic
particles expelled from the Sun.
Both these forms of ionizing radiation
effortlessly pass
through the scientist’s suit,
damaging his DNA
and increasing his risk of cancer.
But let's say our mad scientist
isn't so mad at all.
He’s planned a month-long
research expedition,
complete with a cutting-edge
spacecraft to live in.
This structure protects him from low
air pressure and temperature,
as well as some of the radiation
bouncing around space.
But even here, he's vulnerable
to certain changes.
In addition to experiencing motion
sickness and sleep disturbances,
microgravity changes the distribution
of his blood and cerebrospinal fluid,
shifting roughly half a gallon
of internal fluids to his upper body.
As the weeks pass, his brain engorges
and the sheath of his optic nerve swells.
This not only compresses his pituitary
gland, but flattens the back of his eyes,
impairing close distance vision.
Having very little gravity to work
against also causes muscles and bones
all over his body
to gradually lose mass.
And when bones break down,
they release minerals like calcium.
So our professor might get
kidney stones too.
Diet and exercise can help reduce the
deterioration of his bones and muscles,
but it’s harder to address the
potential damage to his mental health
that comes from being confined
to a tiny spacecraft,
far away from his loved ones.
Thankfully, this isn’t a one-way trip,
and after a month in space,
our adventurer happily teleports home.
However, his journey has left him
with some lasting effects.
Back under Earth’s gravity, it’s initially
hard to stand without fainting.
It takes a few days for his fluids
to redistribute back to normal,
and it'll be months before his muscles
completely regain their strength.
Meanwhile, full restoration of bone
density will take at least a year.
His vision might take several
years to recover,
and it may never return to normal.
There’s still a lot waiting to be
discovered about how space travel
impacts human health
in the short and long term.
So for now, our scientist is content
to use his teleporter for its original—
and much safer— intended purpose.